


What a Way to Go

by FleetofShippyShips



Series: Prompted Harry Potter Works [36]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: HP: EWE, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 18:18:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12940995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/pseuds/FleetofShippyShips
Summary: Prompt:“You want to put your WHAT in my arse?”





	What a Way to Go

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by anon, on my nsfw sideblog.

“You want to put your WHAT in my arse?”

“My tongue, Weasley. Do keep up,” Malfoy said, smirking and crowding him against the wall.

Ron’s face was burning. “Listen, Malfoy, just because we’ve shagged a couple of times—”

“Seven times,” Malfoy supplied, starting to undo the buttons of Ron’s shirt.

Ron glared at him, and batted his hands away. “I still don’t like you! I’ve already said, we’re not doing it again. And we’re certainly not—”

“Come on, Weasel,” Malfoy drawled, suddenly pressing his body against Ron’s, effectively pinning him to the wall. “How many times have you told me to kiss your ass? I thought you’d want this.”

Malfoy rocked his hips, and kissed along Ron’s jaw, as if Ron wasn’t glaring at him. Ron couldn’t really blame him. Glaring had stopped meaning anything after the first three times they’d shagged in a mad passionate frenzy. In fact, just from the pressure of Malfoy’s body against his, and the heat of his mouth at his jaw, he was already feeling hot and aroused. Still… his _tongue_?

“Why would anyone want a mouth near their arse? Why would anyone want to put their mouth near an arse? Quit fucking with me,” he huffed, tilting his head so Malfoy would suck that spot just under his jaw that always made his toes curl.

Malfoy chuckled into his neck. “You have no idea, Weasley. The moment my mouth goes near your arse, you’ll be moaning and begging me for more.”

“You’re such a cocky bastard.”

“I know what I’m about,” Malfoy said, whispering a spell against Ron’s neck that made their clothes vanish.

Ron yelped, and slapped Malfoy’s hip. “Quit banishing my clothes to Merlin knows where!” he snapped. “We don’t all have an endless supply of money to buy more.”

Malfoy started laughing, leaning into Ron, and clutching at his shoulders as if to hold himself up.

“That’s not funny, you wanker!” Ron snapped.

Malfoy stepped back and grabbed his hips suddenly. The room spun, then Ron was facing the wall, and Malfoy was kissing his shoulder. “I’d say I’m surprised, but given the sorry state of this flat of yours, I should have guessed. I banish them to your laundry room you heathen. Do your fucking washing.”

Ron’s face burned with heat. “If you don’t like my flat, then stop coming around!”

“If you don’t like me being here, then stop letting me in. We both know that you like me coming around for this,” Malfoy murmured, his hands drifting down Ron’s back to grip his arse. “Step back a bit so your arse sticks out.”

“You are not putting your mouth anywhere near my arse!”

Malfoy tugged on Ron’s hips until he shuffled away from the wall a bit, and then pushed on his upper back until he leaned forward. When he looked down, Ron could see his traitorous cock, already half-mast. Seven times was not enough to stop feeling like he was doing something wrong by being with Malfoy, of all people. Which only seemed to make it all the more arousing.

“Have I done anything to you yet that you haven’t completely enjoyed?” Malfoy asked.

Ron looked over his shoulder in time see Malfoy sink to his knees. “Why would you want to put your mouth near my arse?” he muttered, since he couldn’t argue Malfoy’s point. Even when he’d been convinced he wouldn’t like the things Malfoy suggested, he always did. It was the reason Ron hadn’t kicked him out the moment he’d mentioned tongues and arses in the same sentence. Unbearable curiosity, even if he was certain he would hate it, or that it was a joke. “That’s just gross.”

Malfoy shrugged, and trailed his fingers over Ron’s arse, murmuring a cleaning charm under his breath. “I want to do it because I like seeing you relaxed and moaning. I like that I’m doing it to you.” He brushed a couple of kisses over the swell of Ron’s arse. “I like that you call me by my given name when you’re feeling too good to remember you’re supposed to hate me, even though you really, really don’t. And I love that little scowl you get when it’s over, and we’re a tiny bit closer to this being more than a handful of casual fucks, and you know it, even if you refuse to admit it.”

Ron clenched his jaw. He liked the way Malfoy called him by his given name in bed too, even if he always waited until Ron did it first. Malfoy always whispered his name like a secret, and it always made Ron’s whole body shudder. None of that had to really mean anything. He’d definitely keep refusing it was more than casual.

“Just relax,” Malfoy murmured. “You’re going to love this, and if you don’t, we’ll just do something else.”

When Malfoy pressed another kiss to his arse, closer to the cleft, Ron turned to face the wall again, rather than look. He couldn’t believe Malfoy was doing it. It had to be some kind of joke. There was no way—

“Stop overthinking, and relax,” Malfoy said, nipping his arse lightly.

“Did you just bite my arse?” Ron asked, closing his eyes tight and ignoring the fact it didn’t feel terrible. He almost hoped he did hate this tongue business, just so Malfoy could finally be wrong about something.

“You are just too much fun,” Malfoy murmured, gripping his arse, spreading him, exposing him.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ron said quickly, his face burning. “Are you actually going to—”

The sound Ron made as he cut himself off was nothing short of humiliating. A sort of breathless squeak. But there was something hot and wet brushing against his rim, and the sensation knocked the breath out of him. And it kept brushing against his rim, flicking, pressing. Merlin, _sucking_.

And then it was gone.

“For Merlin’s sake, _breathe_!”

Ron sucked in a deep breath. Opening his eyes, he saw he’d scratched the wallpaper, and forced his hands to relax. It took several more gasping breaths before he even felt he could breathe.

“Good, keep doing that breathing thing. I hear it’s good for you,” Malfoy drawled from behind him.

Ron turned and glared at him over his shoulder, before remembering why he’d been set on not looking. The sight of Malfoy’s face so close to his arse made his cock throb, and his arse twitch. Malfoy’s lips were wet, and smirking. Merlin, that had been his _mouth_.

“Shall I continue then?” Malfoy asked, the tip of one finger tracing Ron’s rim, while he continued to smirk up at him.

Ron was torn between telling him to kiss his arse, and begging for more. Because that had felt incredible, even if the nature of it still made him cringe. Of course, telling Malfoy to kiss his arse now seemed so literal, and that made his face burn all the more.

“I’ll tell you what,” Malfoy drawled, still brushing his rim with the tip of one finger. “I’ll save your pride for you, and just get back to it. Since it’s all so new. So you don’t have to ask me to keep going, and admit I was right. Just tell me to stop if you don't like it.”

“Don’t do me any favours,” Ron grumbled.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, but then leaned forward. Ron hastily turned back to face the wall just moments before he felt Malfoy’s mouth on him again. A deep groan escaped him, and he scrambled for purchase on the wall again.

Merlin, the git was right. It was infuriating, but whenever Malfoy left his rim to kiss his arse cheeks, or down to mouth at his balls, Ron found himself begging, in a high, needy voice.

And on and on it went, until the wallpaper was shredded. Ron was moaning Malfoy’s given name, and Malfoy’s hand was on Ron’s cock, while his tongue still drove him mad.

When his orgasm tore through him, Ron moaned until he couldn't breathe, his cheek pressed to the wall, and his nails digging into whatever wallpaper was left, scratching the surface beneath.

Malfoy peppered his arse with small, gentle kisses, before trailing them up his back. As he kissed along Ron’s shoulder, he slid his hands over Ron’s where they rested over the torn wallpaper.

“That’s called rimming, Ron,” he murmured softly into his ear. “And all you ever have to do is ask, and I will gladly fall to my knees and do this to you again.”

Ron mumbled something unintelligible, struggling to form words, and Malfoy chuckled into the skin below his ear, pressing more kisses to his neck.

“What about you?” Ron finally managed to say.

“Don’t worry about me,” Malfoy said. “We’ll see to me during round two.”

“Round two?” Ron repeated faintly. “I thought you left off trying to kill me a long time ago.”

Malfoy laughed. “But what a way to go.”

Ron hummed his agreement, and then turned, leaning forward into Malfoy’s arms. Malfoy caught and held him effortlessly.

“Bedroom?” he asked, pressing kisses along his jaw, his mouth never leaving his skin.

“Bedroom,” Ron agreed.


End file.
